You were not my type, but you became my type. You are astonishingly charismatic, it overrode my usual taste palate, and I fell for you. I acquired my taste of you, and you became very much my type.
Once in a while in a crowded conference or festival, I catch sight of someone with your eyes, your hair or your physique. My heart would pause for a second out of disbelief, when I finally see their face I am disappointed and sad again. It wasn’t you after all, just another reminder of how much it hurts that you are no longer by my side.
It makes me cry to know that once upon a time, you were in my embrace. It makes me sad to remember holding you in my arms, once upon a time I firmly believed you were mine.
You are heart-breakingly handsome, and it breaks my heart that you are no longer mine.